


Fantasia — Mari, the Wild Child

by The Firelight Magus (Crystalliced)



Series: Spellborne [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Bad Parental Figure, Family, Gen, Good Parental Figure, Magical Fantasy, Religious Discussion, faith - Freeform, life's meaning - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:08:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24782857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crystalliced/pseuds/The%20Firelight%20Magus
Summary: A girl comes to terms with herself, her power, and the responsibilities that come with it.Canon-compliant side-story for Spellborne. (Updated)
Series: Spellborne [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1682548





	1. Spark

#  **Fantasia, Chapter 1** **  
****Spark**

From the beginning, she was trained as a weapon. How young was she, when the sessions first started? Five? Six? She didn’t remember the exact time it started, but she would  _ never _ forget how it  _ felt. _

She was aware of her Storm from the very instant of her birth. The precise details weren’t something she could remember, but her imagination easily recreated the scene — a child crying in distress, doctors frantic to save her mother, no one able to touch her safely— 

And the first memory she could properly remember? 

_ “Papa, where’s Mama?” _

_ “Gone.”  _

_ “When is she coming back?”  _

_ “Never.” _

_ “But why?”  _

He’d stared at her for a long moment then, something hard in his dark eyes. 

_ “Because of you.” _

She hadn’t really understood it then, but the accusation in her father’s tone didn’t escape her notice, and she’d understood instinctively that she’d done something terribly, terribly wrong. 

The training was always in the basement of their house, just him and her. There wasn’t any equipment — there couldn’t be. In the end, Storm wasn’t real lightning, and so even sophisticated lightning-rod systems weren’t of any use. 

No, the only way to train a Storm Aberrant was to pray that you got lucky and survived it.

... 

Mari trembled, curled up into a ball on the floor. Her short brown hair laid matted against her scalp as sweat poured down her face, sparks skittering off of her hands. 

“It...hurts...” she gasped out, crimson eyes narrowed in pain. 

“Don’t complain. Learn to control it, or it will consume you, Marisa,” her father said, an aged man with short grey hair and hard eyes. “And then you will kill everyone around you.”

Whimpering, she managed to clench her fist. The vibrant blue mana swirling around her hand fizzled out, brought back under her control. With it left most of the pain, leaving behind only periodic harsh, stabbing bursts of heat. She’s too young to restrain herself from checking, each and every time, to see if she was bleeding from a new wound. 

“I don’t want to do this, papa...” she sniffled.

“It is your duty,” a cold voice answered. “I told you to stop complaining, didn’t I?” 

Mari nodded wordlessly, something inside of her breaking at the realization that she couldn’t trust him, her  _ papa _ , to care about her, no matter what else he said. 

_ I don’t wanna hurt anyone _ , she thought to herself.  _ I don’t wanna use any of this Storm, so why do I have to do this? Why does papa make me do this? _

She didn’t have an answer to that question until much later. She certainly didn’t have it a few days later, when her body had healed enough for her to try again. 

And again, a few days later.

At the age of six, she called him ‘father’ instead of ‘papa’. 

It was the only life she knew up until the age of seven, where she was enrolled into the South Academy. Unsurprisingly, she was an exceptional student — her physical parameters are leagues beyond anyone else’s, and she’d been training her mana every chance her father could make her. She was not a genius by any means, but she wasn’t an idiot, either, and her grasp over her body and power was good enough to easily keep her in the upper quarter of the students. 

That being said, her practice didn’t mean she had real control over her Storm. If anything, she could at least direct it towards where she wanted it to go. Her work, though, did mean that she usually wasn’t an active threat to everyone around her — at least, so long as she wasn’t startled. Mostly. 

Of course, that meant she needed to be treated rather specially — her instructors ensured that every kid was aware of what she could do in a moment of carelessness. She wasn’t allowed to spar with anyone, either, so her hand-to-hand style was rather rough, patched together from what she saw and what she read.

Unsurprisingly, her special circumstances meant that she didn’t make any friends. Equally unsurprisingly, no one was willing to bully her when she might accidentally kill them, and so she was merely isolated instead of ostracized. 

She didn’t take much comfort in that. 

To her chagrin, she couldn’t stop other people from getting bullied, either, even though she wanted to. Her Storm Aberration meant that a disabling hit might become a lethal one, so she was forced to walk away even though she would’ve preferred to step in. 

As time passed, Mari began learning to hide from her father, knowing that she’d be pulled into another awful training session should she be found. At first, he found her easily — whenever her emotions spiked, her already terrible control slipped, and she wasn’t the type of girl to be able to sit still for long — so she adapted by exiting the house entirely, running away when the stress of it all got too much for her to handle. In the process, she became familiar with the South Sector, and in particular with a small, hole-in-the-wall, family-owned business. 

...

Crimson eyes stared balefully up at the pouring rain, a window separating the two. The heat of her anger wasn’t sufficient to quell the downpour that trapped her inside the restaurant she slipped into. Business was slow that day, it seemed, as there was no one there but her and an elderly lady. Otherwise, she would feel bad about the booth that she was occupying. 

“What is the matter, young lady?” the woman asked, sitting across from her. Mari, startled, turned to face her. 

“Uhm...nothing,” she responded instinctively. 

Surprisingly sharp blue eyes pinned her in place. “Something must trouble you to bring such a displeased look to your face.” 

Mari shook her head. “I wouldn’t want to impose on your time, miss.” 

Now ten —  _ twelve _ , Mari corrected mentally,  _ eleven because of the medicine  _ — the girl had learned to make as little trouble as possible. Her very existence, after all, was an inconvenience. 

_ At least, Father has made that much clear to me. My continued failure to control my Storm to his liking...well, maybe I ought to hit him with a little of it, and show him how easy it was to control!  _

She shoved the thought down deep into her mind, knowing that she shouldn’t let that fester. More and more, recently, she’d been troubled by thoughts like that.

_ All I brought was trouble. _

“Nonsense,” the woman said, waving a wrinkled hand. “When you become as old as I am, young lady, you will find that any distraction, good or bad, becomes welcome.” 

“Bad, then,” Mari mumbled. “I’m a bad girl.” 

The old lady hummed thoughtfully. “Now why would you say such a thing?”

“I just cause trouble.” The rain slowed, and Mari seized her chance, scrambling out of the booth. “You are a nice person, so I should leave before I cause problems for you.”

The elderly woman sighed. “I can not stop you if I tried, but please know that you are welcome here should you like to return.”

“Thank you,” Mari said insincerely, not planning on ever returning. Bowing briefly, she made her escape. 

_ She was nice. Too nice to me. I don’t want to impose on someone as nice as her. _

...

“Once again, my Storm only causes me more trouble,” she muttered darkly under her breath, safely ensconced in her bed. She flinched, feeling another lightning strike. Moments later, the thunder rumbled, causing her to tremble. 

One of the side effects of her Storm Aberration was that she was completely incapable of sleep while in the vicinity of a thunderstorm. It was just another reason to hate what was inside of her, as far as she was concerned. 

_ I need to get out of here _ , she thought to herself. Mind made up, she slipped out of her room, past her sleeping father  _ — he’s not a very good Lunari, is he,  _ she thought darkly to herself — and out of the house. 

The rain would normally bother her, but in her frustrated state, with her blood running so hot, it steamed off of her before long, and the cold went utterly unnoticed. A patrolling Lunari briefly checked on her to make sure she was okay — she sparked — and he backed off, nodding,  _ understanding. _

_ Thank you, sir. Thank you for leaving me be.  _

Somewhere in the village, perhaps there was a particularly potent Lightning Aberrant who wandered the village, unable to sleep as well. But the majority of people, Mari knew, were probably all asleep already. 

_ Lucky _ , Mari thought to herself, scowling.  _ They get to go home and hug the people they love. And I... _ she paused.  _ I don’t have anyone _ , she realized. 

“Emotions are unnecessary,” she mocked bitterly, mimicking her father’s lecturing tone as she kicked a rock along the road. “You should be grateful over your powers. They’re God’s gift to you.” 

She snarled, clenching her fists. “God killed my mother! And he left me with  _ you,  _ **_father!_ ** _ ”  _ Mana sparked from her hands. “This isn’t a gift! This is a  **curse!** ” 

No one answered her, save for the falling rain. 

“What did I do?” Mari asked, pausing to look up at the night sky. “What did I do to deserve this?! I’ve tried to be good, haven’t I?! I’ve tried really hard. So why...?” 

She looked back down, angry tears in her eyes. Not for the first time, she contemplated death, but the thought that her mother might be waiting for her was sufficiently terrifying for her to reject the thought quickly. 

_ She probably hates me too. _

Pulling herself out of her thoughts, Mari glanced up to find herself outside a certain restaurant she hadn’t been to in several months. Blinking in surprise, she moved to turn away, but the open door caught her attention. 

_ They were open now? In this weather?  _

She closed her eyes, breathing in, breathing out, then taking in one breath, concentrating on pulling her mana deeper within her. When she was satisfied that her mana aura was as suppressed as could be, she snuck inside, slipping through the door as quietly as possible. No one was in the front, but the lights in the back were on—

“I told you, we do not have money to spare. Now leave the premises!” 

She recognized the voice of the elderly lady that had shown her kindness. Narrowing her eyes, she crept closer to the entrance of the back room, listening intently—

“I don’t believe you,” a rougher, masculine voice said, a threatening tone in his voice. “Anybody who lives in the Inner Ring’s gotta have some cash on them. Now tell me where your safe is, or I’ll put a bullet through you!” 

What little patience Mari held fled, and she rushed in, no longer suppressing her mana. Sparks skittered off of her, lighting the way effortlessly as she dashed into the back room. A man was there, a gun in his hands, pointed towards the woman — but he was turning! 

One of the first things taught to Lunari was how to react to a gun — they were some of the most common weapons used by civilians, and were legitimate threats until a Lunari could effectively use elemental reinforcement. Mari wasn’t quite that skilled yet, but she’d managed to get the drop on the man, and adrenaline pushed her forward. 

The man was fast. He managed to get the gun facing her — but that was all, as her small hand slapped the barrel of the gun so hard that it was sent skittering to the side. Her other hand, sparking with electric-blue mana, jabbed him in the chest. Screaming in agony, the man collapsed, still jerking from the shock and a smoldering mark left on the front of his clothes. 

Mari grinned, baring her teeth at the man, before remembering herself and looking up at the surprised older lady. “Are you okay, miss?” she asked, remembering protocol. “Was it just him?” 

Still shocked, the woman nodded. “Thanks to you, young lady. You may want to restrain him so he isn’t a threat if he wakes up,” she said, glaring down disapprovingly at the unconscious man between them.

“Are you a Lunari?” The words tumbled out of Mari’s mouth before she could stop them — obviously she wasn’t, not at her age, but she didn’t look or sound shaken at all despite having just been held at gunpoint— 

“I was, once,” she said kindly. “Not anymore. Quickly now, restrain him. I have a rope under the stove.” 

Mari moved to do as she was told. Soon enough, the man was tied up as the older woman picked up the weapon off of the floor and efficiently dismantled it. 

“Thank you for your help.” The woman bowed deeply, her back creaking. “As much as I wished for distraction, I must say that was a bit too much excitement for one night.”

Mari couldn’t help but giggle. “I suppose so, miss.” 

“Please come back soon. I would like to repay you for your kindness.” 

She hesitated. “But—”

The woman stared at her so flatly that Mari cut herself off without even thinking. 

“I...I will.”

The woman clucked her tongue. “I’ll hold you to that. Ah, before you leave, could I have your name?”

“Mari. Mari Aono,” she answered firmly. Although her name was technically Marisa, she loathed it. 

“That is a good name,” the elderly woman praised, smiling. “Then, Mari, I hope to see you soon.” 

The Stormweaver nodded uncertainly, but didn’t protest further as she took her still-unconscious captive and dragged him outside. Thankfully, the downpour had slowed to a mere drizzle, so she wasn’t drenched as she leapt onto a rooftop and threw up some sparks into the air to catch the attention of the night patrol.

_ Maybe...I could use this Storm of mine to do something good after all?  _

  
  



	2. Impulse

#  **Fantasia, Chapter 2** **  
****Impulse**

“So you came after all.”

Mari nodded. “You asked.” 

“But you did not _need_ to. You _chose_ to.” 

Mari contemplated her words for a while. “Does it matter?”

The old lady chuckled. “Choice _always_ matters. Well, thank you for coming — we do not open for a few hours yet, so we have plenty of time. And — Sakura, come out here! Ah, there she is. Mari. this is my granddaughter, Sakura. Sakura, meet the Lunari-in-training who saved me yesterday, Mari.”

Sakura looked like a dramatically younger version of her grandmother, with somewhat sharp features and brown hair and eyes — but, to Mari’s surprise, she looked to be thirty or so.

_‘Granddaughter’?_

“It is nice to meet you, ma’am,” Mari said politely, and was rewarded with a sharp glance from the older lady.

“No, no, none of that. Call her Sakura. And — oy, Haru, are you done yet? The little lady is hungry, I’m sure!” 

“Almost, ma!”

“Almost?! What are you doing back there—?” The old lady stomped off into the back room.

“Sorry about that,” Sakura apologized, a gentle smile on her face. “Nana means well. She is just...ah, how do I put it...?”

“Blunt?” Mari finished, a small smile on her face. “I don’t mind.”

“As well you’d better not!” The elderly woman shouted from out of sight. “What kind of Lunari would you be?!”

Mari giggled as Sakura facepalmed. “She also has excellent hearing — a relic of her misspent childhood, I fear. Well, feel free to sit anywhere you like. Do you have any allergies or anything we should be worried about?” 

Mari shook her head. 

“Excellent. Well, we’ll be bringing out some food soon.” Sakura smiled gently, raising a hand to interject as Mari opened her mouth. “Don’t worry about paying for it — this is on us.” 

“It’s okay,” Mari said shyly, “I wouldn’t want to cause trouble.”

In response, she received a pat on the head. Mari flinched, surprised, but managed not to shock her. “From the sounds of it, you saved us a lot more trouble than anything you’ll cause. This is the least we can do to pay you back.”

“Here, here!” Nana agreed, easily carrying a plate loaded with meat kabobs. Mari’s mouth watered at the sight — and the _smell_ made her toes curl in anticipation. A man trailed behind her — Haru, apparently, and he was carrying his own plates—

Soon enough, the small booth was loaded with food. Sakura slipped in next to Mari, leaving the other two to occupy the other half. 

“Before we eat, let us take a moment of silence to reflect.” Nana closed her eyes and bowed her head, her kin following a moment later. Confused, Mari copied their example. “I’d like to ask our special guest first about what she thinks is the most important thing in life to have.”

“Um...”

“There’s no wrong answer. She asks these kinds of things all the time,” Sakura said gently. “Just answer what you feel is correct.”

“...Food?” Mari replied sheepishly, to some laughter.

“That is very important,” Nana agreed indulgently. “Sakura, what about you?”

“Family.”

“Haru?”

“Love.” 

“Very good, very good. There is no real answer, of course. To a beggar, perhaps food is their most important thing. To a mother, her family is the most important. And to someone who has found their partner in life, perhaps it is love. You should find what it is you want in life, what is most important to _you_ — and make sure that you do everything you can to _keep_ it.”

“Yes, Nana,” Sakura and Haru said obediently. 

“Good. Now...eat.” 

Mari dug in eagerly, the rich, homely aroma too much for her to bear any longer. It was as good as it looked, the chunks of meat juicy and salted to perfection. 

_This might be the best thing I’ve ever eaten,_ she thought to herself. _Or...maybe it’s because..._

She looked up at the people around her, looking at her with smiling faces.

“It’s really good!” she said happily, then took another large bite. Satisfied, they began eating themselves. Despite her age, Nana was surprisingly unbothered by eating such a rich, salty meal. 

“So tell us about your adventures, Mari,” Sakura said brightly. “What kind of things do you do as a Lunari-in-training?” 

Mari grinned. “Well, there was this one time during stealth practice...” 

...

“You are welcome here any time, Mari,” Nana said severely, looking at Mari as she walked her out, “whether you can pay or not, understand?”

“But...but that’s not fair to you—” 

“It would not have been fair if I was dead,” she interjected sternly, and the young Stormweaver flinched. “Life is not fair, as I’m sure you know. Do not worry about fairness. This is my choice, young lady.”

Mari nodded. “I’ll...I’ll come back, then. Thank you.”

The elder’s face softened. “No, thank you, Mari. because of you, I can spend a little more time with my grandchild and her husband.” 

“It was just my duty,” Mari said. “But...I’m happy I helped.” 

“Good. Well, off you go, then. Come back soon.”

“I will!” Mari turned away, then paused, whirling back around. “Wait, Nana, you never told _us_ what you thought was the most important thing in the world!” 

Nana chuckled raspily. “It should be obvious to you, young lady.”

Mari’s eyes widened. “Choice?”

“Precisely.” 

...

“I’m home,” Mari said sullenly.

“Where were you, Marisa?” her father asked, glancing at her sharply.

“Just out and about,” she said evasively. He narrowed his eyes at her, but didn’t comment further. 

“I’ll be going on a routine mission tonight to Asaro. Shouldn’t take longer than a few days. Take care of the house in the meantime.”

Living by herself wasn’t anything new — her father had been a Lunari since well before she was born, and so she was used to taking care of things on her own. Even from the age of seven, she’d been taught enough to survive by herself with nothing more than the occasional check-up from a neighbor to ensure that she was eating. 

“When I come back, we shall continue our training.” 

“Fine,” Mari said, already walking past him. “Goodbye, father.” 

He sighed. “Farewell, daughter. Take care.”

She walked past him, not bothering to respond.

...

...

...  
  


“W-What?”

“I’m sorry, Marisa. Your father...didn’t make it.”

Mari stared blankly at her neighbor. 

“W-What happened?” 

“His team was ambushed. Bad intel...the tensions in that region had been rather high, and the wrong people intercepted them...”

“Oh.” 

“Will you be okay?”

“I think so. I can take care of myself,” she said, still stunned. 

_I guess I really must be a bad girl after all,_ Mari thought to herself. _If I was better, maybe I’d feel sad? But I just feel...kind of free?_

 _What kind of awful person am I?_

...

Three days later, it finally hit her. Not the fact that her father was gone, no — Mari had no real happiness associated with him, and his departure was a relief to her more than anything else.

No, it was the realization that she was completely alone — save for her neighbor, who she knew didn’t particularly care one way or the other, there was no one that paid any attention to her at all. She had no surviving family, and she certainly didn’t have any friends. 

_No_ , she realized, _there was still someone, wasn’t there?_

Heart racing in her chest, she’d made the walk to the only person who might notice if she was gone. 

“I’m sorry for imposing, Nana. I just...didn’t know where else to go.” 

“That’s okay, girl. You can stay here for as long as you need.” 

“W-Well, before you say that, you should know a few things about me...

...

Mari trembled in her seat, unable to look Nana in the eyes. Sitting across from her, the woman eyed her thoughtfully, steepling her fingers together.

“To sum things up: physical contact can be dangerous, especially when you’re agitated; the training for this is also somewhat dangerous for anyone nearby; becoming too agitated means that you could lose control and severely injure or kill everyone around you, and...oh, right, you can’t sleep in thunderstorms, right?”

With every point, Mari sank a little lower into her chair. 

“Well, if that’s all, that should not be a problem for me.” 

The Stormweaver shot up. “W-What?”

Nana smiled at her. “It seems that as long as we are careful, we will not have any problems. You mentioned that you have ownership over your father’s home now, didn’t you? Hm...well, I have a proposal for you, Mari. A choice, rather. Would you like to hear it?”

The brunette nodded uncertainly. 

“Well, you could move here if you like. I understand that you don’t want to be alone, so we could accommodate you. I must warn you, though, that there is simply not much space. You could live here, yes, but it would be uncomfortable. The alternative...would be that I could move in with _you_.” 

Mari started in surprise. “R-Really?” 

The woman nodded. “As I’ve said, there is not much space in the restaurant, and I’m rather too old to live at it for much longer. Since I’m no longer an active Lunari, though, nor is any of my direct family, I can’t buy a new home in the Inner Ring, so I would need to buy a home in the Outskirts. The transit is too far, though, so I wouldn’t be able to work here anyways. You see the problem, right?”

“Yes...but if you lived with me, then you could still work here?” 

“Assuming you didn’t live too far away, yes, but—” 

“Then I think that’s fine!” Mari exclaimed. 

“Hold on, young lady. There are some things _you_ need to know to make an informed choice. I will not allow you to jump into this without carefully considering everything, because this would be a very, very big step.”

Mari nodded, suitably abashed.

“As you may have noticed, I’m a bit old,” Nana said, smiling slightly. “I can’t do everything by myself, though I can handle most things. But that will not get better, especially as I grow older. To be blunt with you, dear, I am already seventy-six. I don’t expect to see eighty, nor do I wish to. I will try not to burden you more than necessary, but I may need help at times.”

“I don’t...I’m okay with that,” The young brunette said. 

Nana shook her head. “It is not just that. You understand, Mari, that over the course of the next few years, we will most likely grow close, and then you will watch me as I die. That is not something dismissed lightly.” 

“B-But you need my help, don’t you?” Mari stammered. 

“I...it would be good, yes, but that should not be your first consideration—” 

“But it is!” she burst out. “You...you’ve been so nice to me, and it’s only right that I repay you—”

The woman sighed, exasperated. “Cast aside the thought of right or wrong, here. You are robbing yourself of your own choice, dear. If you would like to help, that is a noble sentiment, but do not think for one instant that you _must._ I will be but mildly inconvenienced should you turn me down, but this is something that would affect you for several years if you accepted. Do not weigh that so lightly!” 

Mari nodded. Despite Nana’s words and tone, though, she didn’t feel the same way she did when her father had scolded her. Nana, she realized, didn’t want anything from her but her own happiness, and that made her feel warm inside. 

So she did as she was told, and thought about it. On the one hand, Mari knew she certainly didn’t want to live alone anymore. Being alone was an awful feeling, and she didn’t care for it at all. But on the other hand, Nana was right. Eventually — soon — she’d die, and then...

_But that wasn’t now!_

She made her choice. 

“I want you to live with me,” Mari said decisively. 

Nana studied her for a moment. 

“I’ll make the arrangements.” 


	3. Change

#  **Fantasia, Chapter 3** **  
****Change**

Living with Nana, Mari came to learn, was an  _ experience.  _ It took a few weeks, but eventually the elderly woman moved in, her things carried along by Haru and Sakura, and things settled down quickly.

Nana was an early riser, rising well before the sun came up. She always cooked breakfast and packed Mari’s lunch, her repertoire vast, sometimes unique, and always quite hearty. Mari would escort her to the restaurant before heading to the Academy. Afterwards, Mari would go back to the restaurant and escort Nana home, leaving her grandchild and her husband to manage the rest of the afternoon and evening shift. 

Nana would cook dinner. She spent some time trying to teach Mari more than the basics of cooking, but the young Stormweaver had neither the talent nor the patience for it, and she quickly gave up on trying. 

“Cooking is a worthwhile skill,” Nana lectured after one such dinner, the two of them sitting across from each other at Mari’s dinner table. “It teaches one patience, precision, and the value of effort in service of others. If you can not cook, you must learn some other thing that can deliver on those things, or at least on some of them.” 

“Why?” Mari asked curiously.

“Because they teach you how to work,” Nana said. “Some meals take hours to cook, and are gone in a third of that time. Take the pot roast I made for you yesterday — that took several hours, and we ate most of it in a single serving.”

Mari remembered. It had been an especially delicious meal, and they’d invited Haru and Sakura over as well. 

“Did you enjoy it?”

The young Stormweaver nodded rapidly.

“I can work for something like that. Happiness is a tangible, fleeting thing. I would wager that you will have forgotten about it by the end of the week — no, do not look so guilty. That is just how things go. But I am willing to put effort for such a small thing because spending a few hours to indulge in one of my interests, in the service of someone I care about — does that not sound like a wonderful thing to you?” 

Mari nodded again. “It...it does.” 

Nana smiled. “I want you to find something that you can be interested in. Something that you find genuinely rewarding, whatever it may be. Something that can be leveraged to be useful to the people you care about. I want you to find that thing, and I want it to be fulfilling to you.”

“What if it’s being a Lunari?” Mari asked uncertainly. 

Nana raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you truly want?”

She shook her head.

“I thought not. You are being forced to, aren’t you?”

Mari nodded glumly. “Pretty much up until the point that I can’t.” 

Nana’s expression turned grim. “Then there will most likely come a time where you hate what you must do. And unlike me, you will not have the choice to turn away from it — at least, not without committing treason, which I suggest you think long and hard about before attempting.”

Mari laughed nervously.

“In that case, your hobby will be all the more important. Mari, you are a kind young woman, and I think that you will not enjoy hurting people. But you will have to, eventually. And being able to turn to something that can help others — why, that will be all the more important then. Do you understand?”

“I...I think so.”

“Good. That leads me into the second thing you can try in order to find emotional stability.”

“What is it?”

“Faith.”

Mari winced. Nana raised an eyebrow.

“Your father or your mother?”

“Huh?”

“Which one of them attempted to impress their faith upon you?” 

Mari hesitated. “It was...my dad. He...he called my Storm God’s gift to me, and he always yelled at me when I wasn’t able to do what he wanted...”

Nana’s expression didn’t change. “But you consider it a curse, right?”

“H-How did you know?” 

She shrugged. “It was obvious. It has defined your entire life, isolated you from everyone, and destroyed your relationship with your father. If you personally considered it a good thing after all of that, you would be quite insane.” 

Mari smiled, a strangely warm feeling buzzing in her chest. “Y-Yeah.”

“I will not do that, Mari,” Nana said softly. “Nor would my faith meaningfully impose on you. That isn’t what real faith is about. Your faith is personal to you. A choice, just like everything meaningful in life is. All I want to do is help you understand just what faith is. Do you think you can trust me on that?” 

The Stormweaver hesitated for a long moment, peering into the woman’s eyes with an intense stare. Nana met her gaze firmly, her expression soft and gentle.

_ A choice. Another choice. Choices are kind of scary, aren't they? What do I do? But Nana is nice, _ Mari thought.  _ And she hasn’t tricked me yet.  _

“...Yes.” 

...

Over the years, Mari learned about the faith that guided Nana, or as she learned, supported her. Faith, Nana explained, didn’t change what had already happened, nor what would. That simply wasn’t how the world worked, and if one prayed in hopes of a better future, one could expect to be disappointed a lot. 

No, Nana told her, what faith brought was not guidance, but reassurance — reassurance that one was on the correct path, and that they would not walk it alone. 

“So you believe in gods that can’t change anything?” Mari’d asked, surprised.

“Who knows what is out there?” Nana had replied. “You can believe in whatever you choose, Mari. Whatever faith you can find meaning in. If what you believe in are gods, then that is fine. Spirits, fae, demons, what difference does it make? But you have to take control of your life, Mari. All faith will do is make sure you have company for the ride.” 

For Mari, who had associated faith and religion together for about as long as she could remember, the concept had seemed terribly strange at first. 

She learned other things, as well. Nana was full of strange bits of wisdom, accumulated over her long life, and shared them freely with Mari. 

“You may not have a friend yet,” she’d said, “but you will. Take advantage of any chance you get, find people who can care about you, and treasure them.”

After over three years of Nana’s gentle support and affection, Mari no longer thought that such a thing was impossible. Still, though, she was rather pessimistic about the idea, especially since she was still heavily isolated from all of her peers at the Academy. 

“Bah, don’t worry about them,” Nana told her, when Mari had explained that. “By now, you must be unapproachable to them, right? The strongest student in the Academy by a wide margin?” 

“Y-Yeah.” 

“Your teachers almost certainly have to treat you differently, if you are not allowed to touch anyone?”

“Well, they’ve stopped warning people away from me explicitly, but I’m still not allowed to spar with anyone, and people are still warned about my, uhm...volatility.” 

Nana started, surprised. “Volatility, huh?”

Mari nodded brightly. “I used it correctly, right? I learned it from the book about the Arcacian Civil War...well, with a dictionary to help.”

The elderly woman smiled. “Very good, Mari, very good. Even now, I am surprised that you chose history, of all the pursuits out there...”

The Stormweaver nodded firmly. “I think the reason my father died is because of a lack of understanding of history. Asaro has had longstanding issues with class barriers, which in turn creates a lot of tension. When my father went there, they were on the verge of civil war, so it was always going to be a high-risk type of place. But my father didn’t know that — he called it a routine mission. And he was probably very surprised when he got ambushed. That kind of knowledge could have saved his life, if he’d thought to understand where he was going more.” 

Nana observed her thoughtfully. “That...may be true.” 

“And besides,” Mari said happily, “I enjoy it. There’s so many interesting things to learn about so many interesting people and places! One day, Nana, I think I want to travel. Um, not everywhere though, some places really aren’t doing so well, but there’s lots of other places I want to go!” 

The woman smiled indulgently. “You can, one day. Perhaps you can tell me about some of those places over dinner? And I’ll give you a bit of look into some of the history of my time, too...”

“Okay!” 

...

Mari wasn’t blind to the way that Nana had been slowing down, of course. At the age of seventy-nine, her constitution was impressive, especially for a former Lunari. Still, though, Mari was aware of the way that she sometimes winced as she stood up, and how she had to relegate heavier lifting to the young Stormweaver, now at the modified age of fifteen. 

She was equally aware of the way that her adopted grandmother (not that she’d ever say so to Nana — she’d die of embarrassment) spent an increasingly large amount of time staring out the windows, looking at the sky and the stars. 

So she wasn’t surprised to hear, the first day of the second month of Earth:

“Soon, Mari.” 

“Huh?”

“Before the season of Water ends, I will be moving on to the next world.” 

Mari had not exactly been pleased to hear that, but over the course of a few months, she’d come to understand Nana’s perspective on it. How, to her, death was the conclusion of a long and satisfying journey, filled with both happiness and sadness. How she wasn’t scared of death, especially one that came after she had done everything she’d wanted to do. To Nana, death was almost something to look forward to — a good night’s sleep after a long day of work. 

Mari, now a sixth-year student at the South Academy, would have protested nonetheless, but she remembered what Nana valued most —  _ choice _ — and reluctantly accepted it, even if she didn’t really understand.

“If I waited much longer, my body would waste away, and I would become a burden to everyone I cared about. That is a thought far scarier than death to me, Mari. You might not understand now, but perhaps some day you will come to see, even if you do not agree with me.”

The months passed quickly, far too quickly for Mari’s liking. Nana vehemently refused to allow her to lessen her normal schedule of training on her behalf, saying that it would be a far greater tragedy if  _ Mari _ died earlier than she ought to. 

“Young lady, if you believe yourself an inconvenience to everyone around you, then you owe it to them to be alive long enough to pay back your debt, do you not?” 

Mari wasn’t in the habit of winning many arguments with her, and that hadn’t been an exception. Reluctantly, she continued to train her Storm, making sure to spend as much time with her adopted grandmother as she could. The old lady indulged her fondly, the two spending many late nights staring up at the glittering expanse of stars. Once, Nana had even made the journey with her to the Outskirts, where they had spent the better part of a day cheerfully partaking in a picnic.

The Stormweaver had slept well that night. 

There were other days too, and other nights, each producing treasured memories for the affection-starved girl. But the one that she would remember most fondly? That happened a week before the date Nana had chosen for her to die.

...

It was a colder evening than most, but that hadn’t stopped Nana from putting up a chair on the flat rooftops of their home in order to look at the stars. Mari, wrapped in a blanket, sat next to her on the ledge, kicking her legs idly. 

“Hey, Nana?”

“What is it, Mari?” 

“Do you have a wish?” 

“Oho, what an interesting question. Let me think...” 

Mari nodded obediently, a small smile on her face as she looked up at the elder woman. 

“Well, I can not say much comes to mind. All I have wanted to do has been done. I suppose I wish I had travelled more when I was younger, but it is rather too late for that, and I do not regret it much.” 

Mari reluctantly conceded that it was probably impossible to do now, and it didn’t seem that Nana wanted it so badly that she was willing to delay her passing for long enough to achieve it. Still, she couldn’t help but think about it. 

“What did you want to do, then? You said that you’ve already done everything you wanted to do, right? So what is it you’ve done that makes you so satisfied with your life?” Mari asked after a few moments of contemplative silence. 

A gentle smile crossed Nana’s face. “Ah, many things. I saved lives as a Lunari. I met the man of my dreams and married him, and spent thirty years together with him before he passed on before me. I raised a family, and taught them how to choose for themselves, and supported them as they found their own paths in life, despite our disagreements.”

Mari had found out that much of that family had chosen to become Lunari, despite Nana’s protests. Mari was also well aware of the typical fatality rate for Lunari, understood that the topic of her immediate descendants could be a sore one, and hadn’t ever brought it up since then.

“I created the restaurant of my dreams, and worked tirelessly to ensure its success, at least for the immediate future. I raised a wonderful grandchild, and saw her marry the man she loved. And...” Nana smiled fondly, looking down at the girl next to her. “I got to spend nearly four full years with a kind, gentle girl who I have watched grow up into a fine young lady.”

Mari flushed, unable to meet her gaze.

“I am satisfied,” Nana said, warmth in her eyes as she leaned back up, facing the stars once more. “That, Mari, is how I can make my choice as easily as I have. I have lived a long, fulfilling life. My hope is that you do, too.” 

The Stormweaver nodded. 

“I will do my best.” 

Nana smiled.

“That, Mari, is all I could ever ask of you.” 

  
  



	4. Bloom

#  **Fantasia, Chapter 4** **  
** **Bloom**

The days passed far too quickly. Sakura and Haru, frequent visitors to the house, all but slept over the last three days. No matter how many happy nights they shared, though, they couldn’t stave off the final day. 

Early in the morning, while Mari was still waking up, a young man approached the house. From the rooftop, Nana channeled mana to her legs before jumping off, landing easily and bending her knees to absorb the impact.

“You’re a bit old for that, aren’t you?” the courier asked, reaching down to his belt and unclipping a scroll holster from his hip. 

“Bah. I have little time left in this world anyways, and I remember enough about mana manipulation to take a little fall or two. Anyways, I am here to receive the package.”

The man nodded, opening the scroll before unsealing a small vial filled with clear liquid. “Very good, sign here...thank you. Of course, I’ll need you to drink this in front of me.” 

Nana took the vial, staring at it thoughtfully. “About one hour, right?” 

“Indeed. If you’re having second thoughts, then...?”

“Certainly not,” she interrupted sharply, deftly uncapping the vial. “I have had an entire lifetime to have second thoughts. Now is the time to be freed of them.” Without hesitation, she threw the contents of the vial back, swallowing immediately. 

“Tastes something awful.” 

The courier shrugged, holding his hand out. Nana dropped the empty vial and stopper into his hand. 

“Thank you for your service,” Nana said, bowing shortly. 

“No, thank you,” the man returned, sketching an equally short bow. “Enjoy the rest of your time.” 

Without another word, the man turned around, leaping onto a nearby rooftop before vaulting away towards his next destination. Nana stared after him for a few moments before turning around to see Mari standing in the open door, eyes glimmering brightly with unshed tears.

“Awake already, Mari?”

“Yes, Nana.” 

“Good.” Nana smiled gently at her. “If you are feeling up for it, how about a short run with me? I believe my old bones can handle a few minutes of running.” 

Mari nodded silently, blinking away her tears.

“Good. Try not to slow me down too much, hm~?” With a laugh, Nana leapt onto the rooftops, then began hopping away across them.

The Stormweaver squawked in outrage before leaping up after her. She caught up within moments, but didn’t try to race past — if Nana took that as a challenge, she would certainly lose, and Mari didn’t want her to spend her last hour in a hospital. 

Running at a normal, even slightly slow pace was something new for Mari, the girl used to either darting around the village or slowly walking when she was with Nana. It was fun, she decided, feeling the wind send her long hair flying out behind her. 

They were moving too fast to easily talk, though, and Mari didn’t want to disrupt Nana’s concentration. The relative quiet of the run caused her thoughts to wander back to just what would be happening today. 

Today, she would say goodbye to the woman she loved most in the world. 

A few months ago, that would have caused her a great deal of distress. Over time, though, between Nana’s guidance and her own ruminations, she’d come to understand a little better, at least, even if she didn’t agree with it. And besides, she’d promised, hadn’t she? She’d accepted that Nana would die in a few years, and she’d still made the choice to grow closer to her anyways. 

‘All choices come with consequences, whether good or bad. Those who succeed in life are the ones who make choices that bring more benefit than harm.` 

Mari wouldn’t trade the years she’d had with Nana for anything. Without even a shadow of a doubt, she knew that the choice she had made those years ago had been a good one — maybe even the best one of her life. Now, all she had to do was live with the consequences — the  _ other _ ones. 

Four years of kindness, guidance, and advice had built Mari into a stronger person, though, someone who could accept Nana’s choice given time without bitterness. And so, she’d told herself, she wouldn’t cry. 

‘All things come and go, Mari. Live in the present, and enjoy them while they last.’ 

Mari pulled herself out of her thoughts, realizing something strange about the path they were taking. 

“Nana, aren’t we...?” 

The elderly woman slowed down as Mari spoke up, the Stormweaver pulling up next to her. 

“Indeed, Mari, we have done little more than go in a circle.” 

“Why?”

Nana hummed. “I suppose I had no particular destination in mind. Is there anywhere in particular you wanted to go?” 

Mari giggled despite the circumstances. “Nana, it’s...it’s  _ your _ day, so you should choose where you want to go.” 

“Oh,” the woman said, smiling. “Well, if it’s my choice, then how about you lead the way, then? No matter where you pick, I will be satisfied all the same.” 

Mari sighed fondly. “Nana...okay, okay. I know somewhere where we both have a lot of fond memories.” 

“Then by all means, lead the way.” 

...

“Well, I suppose you did tell the truth,” Nana said ruefully. 

The Stormweaver laughed. “I’m not exactly creative. I think you should have saw this coming.”

Nana was sitting in her folding chair on the roof again, Mari next to her on the ledge. It was a familiar position for the two, many warm and cool evenings alike spent above their home. 

“Perhaps so,” Nana said softly, a teasing lilt to her voice. “That is okay, though. You still have time, after all.”

At the mention of time, Mari grew a bit anxious again. Every minute that slipped past was another step closer to the inevitable. With so little time less, she was almost frantic to ensure that every second counted — but, paradoxically, could barely think straight. 

“How is your Storm Control now?” Nana asked suddenly. 

“Ah...it’s okay, I guess. As long as I’m not startled, it’s pretty good. My days of shocking people on accident are past me, for the most part...why?” 

“Is that so...?” Nana mused. “Then, Mari, might I sit next to you?” 

“Eh? But — but if I shock you, then—” 

“Then nothing much,” the woman said, a small smile on her face. “At worst, you will come to accelerate something all too inevitable, and I shall not be displeased in the slightest. But we have spent years being careful around your powers, and I think that, just this once, I would like to try and hold you. Do you think you could indulge me?” 

There was silence for a long moment.

“I-If it’s what you want, Nana, then I’ll let you, but...are you sure?”

In lieu of an answer, she deftly folded the wooden chair, laying it down next to the pair before gently wrapping an arm around Mari’s shoulders. The Stormweaver stiffened, tensing at the contact. 

“Are you okay, Mari?” Nana asked, concerned. 

“I...yes?” 

“You seem rather uncertain.” 

“I...I think I’m under control...?” 

“Very good,” Nana said softly. “See? Nothing has happened. Though perhaps you should be cautious about testing this on other people, hm?” 

Mari laughed, tentatively leaning into the elderly woman more. She’d known, of course, that Nana loved her — trusted her, even — but to feel her careless faith in her...that, she thought, was something special, something she’d remember until the end of her life. 

“Everything will be okay,” Nana said soothingly, and it was only then that Mari realized she was crying, tears sliding down her cheeks. “You will be okay. You are strong, and kind, and so very brave. No matter what kind of life you choose for yourself, I know that you will see it through with all of the goodness in that heart of yours. You are capable of such great, wonderful things, Mari. I tried to make sure that those things would be good, but...turns out, I did not need to do very much. You...have such a beautiful spirit, and you are going to do such amazing things. I know it.”

Tears flowed freely down the Stormweaver’s face, dripping onto both of their laps. 

“Learn...to control that Storm of yours. Then you can use it...to protect people, if you so choose. When you so choose. That is just...who you are. Your Storm...it can still be a gift after all. Because you can...you can do things that no one else will be able to...wonderous, amazing things. That...I have  _ faith _ in that, Mari...that you will change the world. I  _ know _ you can. That...that is my request to you, as selfish as it is. This world is...it is beautiful, but it is still so very ugly, too. Try to...make things better, somehow, even a little...and follow what is  _ right _ . Ah, one last bit of advice...as a Lunari, you will be expected to hurt people, or to kill them. You...should always remember...what you are fighting for, always. Hurt people when you must, kill if you have no other choice...but try to save those you can, those who...do not deserve to die...” 

Nana trailed off for a moment, leaning heavily on Mari. 

“I apologize...it is getting rather dark...do you...think I could rest here? Just...for a little while...” 

“As long as you need, Nana,” Mari said shakily, holding her carefully. “I’ll be here.” 

“Thank you...you are a good girl, Mari...” The elderly woman closed her eyes.

“I love you, Nana...” Mari whispered.

Nana murmured something under her breath, too softly for Mari to hear, but her arm tensed around her ward’s shoulders, and the Stormweaver understood. 

And so, a day before her eightieth birthday, Narako Nariyama took her final breath. 

...

...

...

The body was cremated. Sakura and Haru, her most direct descendants, received the ashes...and promptly gave them to Mari, deciding that the young Stormweaver would want them more. They took over Nana’s restaurant full-time, successfully keeping the business afloat. 

As for Mari herself, she threw herself into her training, determined to master her Storm the best she could. Nana had given her a task, after all, and she wouldn’t fail. 

All she had to do was become a hero. 

So she worked. She worked and worked and worked, through the ups and the downs of her life, and eventually she came face-to-face with someone who looked at her not with disgust or fear, but cautious pragmatism. 

“Then why try to protect me?” 

Yuki hesitated.

“Because it was the right thing to do.” 

Mari contemplated the boy in front of her. He was lying, that much she knew for certain. Her ability to detect lies via the fluctuations of one’s heartbeat wasn’t well known, and all the more useful for it. 

He might be lying about protecting her, Mari knew, but that was okay. She’d seen the way he’d interacted with the sealer, seen the way she’d put her body on the line to protect him, and she’d understood. 

Yuki wasn’t protecting her, but he was protecting  _ someone _ , and for Mari, that was good enough. 

“I would be honored to work with you,” she said sincerely.

That was Mari’s first step to becoming a hero. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus, Fantasia is ended. But this is not the end of Mari's story, nor is it even the end of Mari's backstory. She's two years older than Yuki is, after all, and if you've read 1.3, you should know of several key events missing from this particular recollection.
> 
> But that's a tale for another time.


End file.
